Commandeer the friendly neighborhood jeepney along with the friendly neighbors as homegrown guides (notice that this is not your average urban passenger jeepney, but rather hardier, closer to its army type predecessors, with big wheels capable of plowing through rough roads and great puddles.

If the dog wants to come, let him, and let him figure out how he’s supposed to fit.

Go past the resorts where you have to pay to come in and find a remote, isolated strip of beach, a beach that’s actually not lined with cottages and strolling tourists, so untouched that it’s actually forested.

Though for actual shelter purposes there should be at least one shed, which comes with a table and a grill for cooking.

Try out the fishing boat docked near the shed, knowing that the locals are friendly enough that they won’t slaughter you should they find you messing about with their boat. Swim and get acquainted with the local marine life. Steer clear of sea urchins and crablets strolling about.

Let the cooking begin, care of the jolly and irrepressible Mamet, who was also in charge of gathering up the huge crustaceans or whatchamacalits.

Attack.

Spend the rest of the lazy afternoon chatting, swimming, or just lolling about.

For this to work, obviously, you would need to be somewhere remote, beautiful and unspoiled, in this case the Polillo Island in Quezon; you would need to be with people you really enjoy spending time with; and you need to be with locals who really know their way around and who know how to make you feel at home.